I haven’t been writing much lately. Actually, I haven’t been writing at all. I don’t know what it means, or if it presages a surrender of my hope of becoming published. I hope not. I’ve put in too much time and effort working towards this goal, but at the moment I’m distracted by the realities of life. Is that a valid excuse?

There are stories in my head that I need to tell. I cannot deny it, it’s a fact of my being, that I’m always thinking, that I’m always inventing stories when I’m alone, coming up with plots and scenarios, dreaming of what I would like to say, yearning for others to enjoy what I have come up with.

Lately I’ve been off my rhythm. I haven’t set aside time to sit and daydream or brainstorm. I haven’t sat at my computer with the sole goal of committing the stories in my head to paper, or I guess to a computer file. It’s a shame because that’s what I want, what I need, but as I said before, I’m dealing with life issues, not at all live threatening or serious, but deserving of my attention. It’s where I need to be, and where my energies are focused.

I hope to get back to writing soon, and honestly, I have been writing, just nothing I care to share at the moment. I’m still planning on participating in NaNoWriMo again for the fifth time come November. I still want to rewrite Son of the Father, which was my first NaNo novel. I have others I want to rewrite, not because they are great works en potencia, but because they mean something to me, because I believe they have a message I want to share.

But for now I’m engaged in a trial of a sort, a moment of personal growth that is impacting me emotionally and spiritually. How I’ll come out is anyone’s guess, but it’s a journey I need to take, a journey we all have to take in one form or another, at some point in our lives. This is my time.